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 Aug 2020 Isabelle
JK Cabresos
Blind
 Aug 2020 Isabelle
JK Cabresos
Love is not blind,
but he who did not see your worth.
Copyright © 2018
 Feb 2020 Isabelle
Christina
seasons
 Feb 2020 Isabelle
Christina
i met you
as the leaves fell
and the sky turned grey

the world grew cold
as my heart turned warm

i missed you
as the leaves grew back
and the sky turned blue

the world grew warm
as my heart turned cold
 Dec 2019 Isabelle
Meruem
Habang sinusulat ko itong talata,
Ikaw ang aking naaalala.
Kung ito man ay iyong mababasa,
Sana'y mag-iwan ng magandang alaala.

Hindi inaasahan ang iyong pagdating.
Pagod kong puso, iyong ginising.
Buhay ko'y binigyan ng ningning,
Ikaw lang ang gustong makapiling.

Sa kabila ng lahat ng mga nangyari,
Iyo sanang mawari.
Na ikaw ay laging mananatili,
Sa puso kong ikaw lamang ang nagmamay-ari.
Langga, sorry kaayo sa mga kasalanan ko sayo. Pinagsisisihan ko lahat. Hayaan mo, hindi ka na iiyak ulit. At wag ka ring mag-alala. Sa pag-alis kong to, lagi kong bitbit yung mga magagandang alala at bagay na binigay mo sakin. Kahit san man ako magpunta, ikaw pa rin yung nagbibigay ng dahilan sakin para maging mas mabuting tao, para alagaan ang sarili ko. Sana hindi mo ko makalimutan. Sana maging masaya ka. Alagaan mo sarili mo. Mahal na mahal kita, at sobrang mamimiss kita. ~

Ps. Patuloy lang akong magsusulat ng tula para sayo. Kapag masaya o malungkot, dito nalang kita kakausapin. Dito ko nalang ilalabas lahat ng gusto kong sabihin.
 Dec 2019 Isabelle
Gamaliel
pinawi ng 'yong ganda
lungkot ng pag-iisa
huminga't napayapa
dahil nasilayan ka
(satin pa rin aasa,
kahit may iba ka na)
a
  poet's words
are their
    organs

   that

they
    donate
to

    the world
 Oct 2019 Isabelle
Nat Lipstadt
safe & sound in sounds beloved


<>

in a chalk dust soft whisper, barely bit more than an
eyelash fluttering tonality, she requested her playlist,
favoritism shown, partial to certain poems, poet,
safety in the sounds of familiarity, melded into verses and poems

“works,” how she nat/notated them, smiling,
for they were not works, but labors, safe sounds,
on a palette synthesized from emotive words coloring all of
her drumming, thrumming skin beating, eyes singing,
lips tingle reverberating, echoing my weeping

I read her the collected, the sure ones, made to eye-tear, her lips,
pleasure poutiest before turning corners upward,
in a haven’t-smiled-for-awhile,
a plush blush so pale red, pores of pavé chips of rubies glistening
each in a tearful diamond setting

one more stanza to remember, mark the page, the collective
of this moment,
what shall we call it, this essence of timing of
lifetimes glory glorious;
a hallelujah crossover, suggested, hints of death after life, no,
I nod, no, vociferously
gifting it to her as a quiet,
safe and sound,
safe in sounds beloved, words, beloved,

beloved for being loved and she, beloved



10/08/19
nyc
early morning
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